


in search of your own happy ending

by mirkandmidnight



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, As Does Deryn, Canon What Canon, Crack Treated Seriously, Deryn Sharp points and laughs at your gender roles, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, I Don't Even Know, Jaspert Kicks Butt, Knights - Freeform, Lilit is a dragon for reasons, Male-Female Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Het, Stereotypical Henchman, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirkandmidnight/pseuds/mirkandmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The medieval AU that no one wanted and no one asked for but that I think we can agree we all collectively deserve and that you're all getting anyway.</p>
<p>Alternately: Alek is a princess, Deryn really has no idea how she got tangled up in this whole thing, and Lilit just wants Alek to leave the nest. </p>
<p>Also Germans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in search of your own happy ending

**Author's Note:**

> There are times when I can't believe I spent over 10000 words on this monster. Anyway, here are some explanatory notes.
> 
> Jaspert-Just think of him as a really active version of M from James Bond, or as Gilan from the Ranger's Apprentice series. Things will be much easier on you.
> 
> Dr. Barlow laughs at your gender roles. She will pick her pupils as she chooses. Also, Dr. Nora Barlow is totally trained as a knight and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise. So just stop.
> 
> Newkirk is a squire. He has yet to achieve knighthood, as does Fitzroy. Fitzroy is just an asshole.
> 
> I really did try with the whole German thing. I really did. And that's all I have to say about that.

The unfortunate thing about being a girl, Deryn had discovered, was that no one let you do anything interesting. Unless, of course, you were a particular friend of Dr. Nora Barlow, who (against all notions of propriety and with Deryn’s great respect) ran the royal school of knighthood. Deryn had dreamt since childhood of being a knight and going on adventures, and her brother Jaspert was a student of Dr. Barlow’s. Dr. Barlow had been more than willing to take Deryn on as a pupil, but there’d been a bit of grumbling and moaning from the community at large. Teaching a girl to be a knight? Ridiculous.

Nevertheless, Deryn had made it through her schooling and was now a full fledged knight, regardless of what anyone else said, and she was more than ready to get to having adventures.

“Now, Deryn,” Jaspert said, his feet kicked up on the table as he watched her pack her saddlebags, “remember your training.”

“Yes, Jaspert.”

“Don’t forget that there are a lot of people watching you closely. Not everyone wants you to succeed.”

“I know, Jaspert.”

“And remember what to do if you get in a fight,” her brother said, grinning around a bite of apple.

Deryn rolled her eyes. “Stick them with the pointy end? I know how to use a sword, Jaspert. I’m a proper knight.”

Her brother sniffed and wiped away mock tears. “My little baby sister, going off into the world. Remember your poor spymaster brother when you’re rich and famous, yeah?”

She sighed. “Jaspert. I’m coming back in a month.”

Jaspert stood and herded her out the door, apple still in his hand. “Yeah, yeah, off with you now. If you don’t go now you’ll never leave the nest.” Deryn mounted her horse (she’d never actually gotten around to naming him and at this point she was sort of afraid to really do it), waved, and rode off into the sunset. Literally.

Jaspert was never going to let her hear the end of this.  
***  
Deryn wandered the countryside for about a week, just trying to get the lay of the land. And not that she would tell anyone, but there really wasn’t anything interesting going on near Glasgow recently. However, there were some halfway decent inns nearby, and she decided to spend the night at one of those instead of camping. You could only sleep on solid rock for so long before you started to long for a proper bed.

The innkeeper of The Leviathan was an older man named Hobbes, who seemed glad to rent a room for the night. Business had been bad recently, he told her, since a few travelers had heard tell of a dragon setting up residence nearby.

“A dragon?” Deryn said, mouth dry. “Really?”

Hobbes nodded. “Up near the old tower. And I’ve heard he’s got a princess locked up in there.” The old man winked at her. “Enterprising young man like yourself could have a king for a father in law by the year’s end if you get a move on.” 

He turned away, spitting in a mug and wiping it with a rag. Deryn winced, and then muttered, “But I’m a girl.”

But what did it matter, anyway? It wasn’t as if Deryn was going to marry this lass even if she was a boy. Marriage was a trap, a way to stick a woman back into skirts and set her up with a baby before she could say “knife”. All the same, it would make a good first adventure, saving a princess from a dragon. Maybe then people would take her seriously.  
***  
Of course, the tower ended up being devilishly tricky to find, because somebody had decided that growing a giant wall of thorny vines around it would be great fun to navigate and not an all a hindrance. If Deryn had to cut one more vine, she swore that something was going to pay for it. Even the horse seemed put out by the thick wall of greenery.

It took a day and a half to get through it, and by the time they actually did get to the other side, Deryn made the executive decision to stop for the day and continue to the tower tomorrow. It wasn’t as if getting there that day would do any good, since she and the horse were exhausted and in no state to be dealing with a dragon, no matter the size.

They started out early the next morning; Deryn was determined to get to the tower that day. They reached it around noon, although Deryn almost missed it altogether. Not that it was her fault, mind. The blasted thing was practically falling down and was covered in (oh, joy) vines and other greenery. At the top was a small window, which had been shuttered and barred.

Deryn squinted up at the neatly painted red shutters. “Hello?” she called. “Anyone up there?”

The window opened with a creak she could hear all the way from the bottom of the tower, and a head poked out from it. A boy’s head.

“Blisters,” Deryn groaned.

The boy looked down at her. “Um, hello,” he said. “What exactly are you doing here?”

“I think I’m at the wrong tower,” she replied. “There doesn’t happen to be another one around here, does there? You see, I’m supposed to be rescuing a princess in a tower with a dragon guarding her.” Deryn paused. “Any of this ringing a bell?”

The boy blinked. “I think you might have got your genders mixed up. I’m the princess. Or, prince, rather. I’m a man.” He sighed. “That was horrible, pardon me. I am His Serene Highness, Prince Aleksander of Hohenburg.”

Deryn looked at him for a moment. “I’m just going to call you Alek. Sir Deryn Sharp, at your service.”

Alek narrowed his eyes. “You’re a knight?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t knights supposed to be men?”

“You know, I don’t have to be here. I’m technically on vacation. I’m sure there are plenty of other princesses nearby who’d love to be rescued by me. I could just go and take them home and leave you, if that’d suit your schedule better.” Deryn made a mocking salute and turned to go, a sharp grin on her face.

“No, wait!” Alek called, sounding almost panicked. “Sorry, you’re really not what I was expecting, please don’t leave me here!”

She turned back. “Fine. Where’s the dragon?”

“Lilit won’t be back for another hour at least, but you oughtn’t to worry about her. She’s really very nice; she just wanted a bit of company.”

“So she kidnapped you?” Deryn called over her shoulder, unhooking the length of rope from her pommel and digging through her saddlebags. Ah, good. She had packed her climbing gear.

“Oh, no, I volunteered,” Alek said, almost proudly.

“You volunteered?” Deryn said, disbelieving. “Why?”

Alek shrugged. “Got a bit fed up with all the people in my father’s court and wanted a bit of a rest.” She shook her head and walked back to the base of the tower, slipping her climbing gloves on and putting the rope over her shoulder.

“Be just a minute,” she said, waving up at Alek, and began to climb.  
***  
It took longer than a minute, not that she was really keeping count. Once or twice she’d almost slipped, and she had to admit it had been rather gratifying to hear Alek gasp with concern. Finally she pulled herself through the window and slumped against the ledge.

“Pleasure to meet you in person, your princeliness,” Deryn said, extending a hand to Alek. He took it warily.

Now that she saw him up close, Deryn realized he was actually rather handsome. The mop of red hair certainly wasn’t doing anything for him, but Alek had a nice looking face and pretty eyes and wait, no, stop, what in blazes was she doing? Deryn let go of his hand and scratched the back of her neck.

“So, what are you planning?” Alek asked. He had an accent. Interesting. It sounded rather close to German.

“Barking spiders, give me a minute to catch my breath, would you? I did just climb up the side of a bloody tower.” Deryn took another minute, and then sprung upright. “Right,” she said. “See that?” She pointed at a tree with sturdy branches not too far from the base of the tower. “I’m going to try to lasso one of the lower branches.”

“But that’s ridiculous! It’s much too far away, it’ll never-" the lasso wrapped snugly around a branch and Deryn looked smugly at him, “work,” Alek finished resignedly. “Fine, although you have to admit that was a lucky shot.”

“I don’t believe in luck,” Deryn said. “Do you have a hanger?”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Alek muttered, and walked away. He reappeared a moment later, holding a sturdy looking wooden hanger. “Will this do?” He handed it to Deryn, who inspected it carefully.

“Nicely,” she concluded, and tied the other end of the rope to the leg of a heavy looking table in a sturdy knot. She’s rather good at knots.

Alek tilted his head. “Care to explain how we’re getting down? As far as I can see, we’re still stuck up here.”

“Like this,” Deryn said, hooking the clothes hanger on the rope. She hooked one arm around Alek’s waist and grabbed his belt, ignoring his protestations, then with the other hand held the hanger, and leapt out the open window.

“Stop wriggling,” she yelled into his ear as they slid down the rope.

“Sorry,” he replied, “it’s just I’m sort of afraid for my life right now!” As they neared the tree, Deryn extended her legs and braced them, bringing them to a jarring halt. Only they were still 20 feet above the ground.

“What now?” Alek asked.

Deryn hummed her discontent. “Don’t know,” she said. “Hadn’t quite gotten this far.”

“And here I thought you were supposed to be a professional,” Alek commented. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to take the lead on this one.” And with that, he pried her fingers off his belt and leapt to the ground, landing flat on his back.

“Are you crazy?” Deryn hissed. 

He stood and dusted himself off, looking up at Deryn. “This from the girl who used a rope and a clothes hanger to escape from a tower.” Deryn sighed and let go of the hanger, tucking and rolling to reduce the force of the impact.

“There,” she said. “Happy?”

“Delighted,” Alek drawled.

That was, of course, when the dragon showed up. Deryn had stood up and was slapping at her clothes in a futile effort to get the dirt out when a gust of wind nearly knocked her over. “Oh, blisters,” she muttered, and that was when the dragon wrapped a claw around her waist and took off, hovering just above the trees. She brought Deryn up to the height of her eyes (purple, shot through with gold) and inspected her.

“Hmm,” the dragon (Lilit?) said in a creaking voice. “A girl. Interesting.”

She made a frustrated noise. “Why does everyone keep commenting on the fact that I’m a girl? Does that personally offend you?” The claw tightened around her, and Deryn could feel her ribs creaking. 

“And insolent, too,” Lilit murmured.

Deryn coughed. “Um. Yes. Hello. I don’t know if you could possibly loosen your grip a little bit? Having a bit of a hard time breathing here. And also please don’t kill me.”

Lilit laughed, but her grip loosened just enough that Deryn could breathe comfortably. “I rather like you. How’d you manage to get him out of the tower by yourself?” 

“Rope and a clothes hanger.”

The dragon laughed again. “Yes, I like you rather well indeed. You’ll do quite nicely.”

“Um, Lilit?” Alek called. “I don’t know if you maybe want to put her down? Not to say that I haven’t enjoyed my time with you, but we should most likely both leave the area. You don’t want more knights coming after you.” He paused. “Or me.”

Lilit tilted her head to one side. “Hmm. I suppose having more knights around would be rather unpleasant. You’re probably correct.” She sighed, but descended to a lower height, then dropped Deryn, who landed in a heap next to Alek.

“Ouch,” she said, her words muffled by the ground. 

“I said I liked you, not that I’d be gentle,” Lilit commented, and landed. She took a step closer to Alek. “Well, it has been nice having you to talk to, but I suppose this is goodbye. And you,” she continued, directing her words to Deryn.

“Yes?” Deryn still hadn’t gotten up.

“Don’t break into other people’s houses.”

“Noted.” 

Lilit took off again, wings stirring the air and whipping the trees into a frenzy. She began flying south, and Alek watched her go. Meanwhile, Deryn had flopped over onto her back and was looking up at the sky. 

“I don’t like dragons,” she commented. Alek extended a hand; she took it and pulled herself to her feet. “So, where are you from, your princeliness?” Deryn asked cheerfully.

“Austria-Hungary,” he replied. “But I wasn’t a real prince.” She gave a questioning look, and he continued. “I’m illegitimate. My mother wasn’t royalty, so I’m not really royalty either.”

“But you’ve got a title.”

“It’s a courtesy title. At least you’re a real knight.”

Deryn shrugged. “Was hard enough to even get that. Like you said, girls aren’t supposed to be knights.”

Alek smiled, the first one since they’d met. “We do make an odd pair, don’t we? A fake prince and a lady knight. I do believe I’m going to enjoy your company.”

She returned the smile. “Always good for a laugh, me.” Deryn looked upwards at the sky, noting the dark clouds. “Though I don’t like the look of that weather. Not a bit.”  
***  
It was possibly the worst storm in recorded history, Deryn thought. And of course they were stuck out in it. They’d been riding for hours, searching for something to use as shelter, but to no avail. Deryn was soaked through, and she was freezing, and if she never went outside again it would be too soon. Although she hadn’t had the worst of it by far. Alek had fallen into a river a while back, and of course being a prince, he’d never learned how to swim Deryn had had to leap into the river after him and pull him out, because apparently this was her life now, saving idiot princes who couldn’t manage to do anything without nearly dying.

So she’d jumped in after him (and luckily she knew how to swim, or it would have been curtains for both of them) and practically forced his head above water, all the while trying to keep herself from going under because the idiot boy wouldn’t stop flailing about.

“Stop that!” she’d eventually shouted, and instead he’d clung to her like a barnacle. He still had his arms around her waist now, even though that had been ages ago and blisters, they were both going to get a chill at this rate if she didn’t get them inside soon.

Deryn squinted into the darkness, her eyes tracing a dark recess in the rocky cliff. A cave would do rather nicely. She reined in the horse and dismounted, heaving Alek along with her. She half led, half hauled him into the cave, leading the horse with her other hand, then set about the business of lighting a fire.

The fire only did so much. Alek’s lips and the tips of his fingers were still freezing (and she only knew that because they were blue, mind you. It wasn’t as if she were ogling him) and he was still shivering.

Of course, he was still wearing his wet clothes, so there was that. Deryn sighed heavily. “All right,” she said, standing. Deryn dug through her pack. “I’m going to turn around in a minute. When I do, you’re going to get out of your wet things and into some dry clothes.” She tossed a tunic and a pair of breeches at him, then turned around. “Go.”

She waited until the sounds of rustling had stopped, counted to three, and then turned back around.

Luckily for her, he was dressed. She picked up the wet shirt and pants and spread them out to dry by the fire, and then sat back down. Alek held his hands out to the fire and stared into it. 

“Why are you helping me?” he asked.

Deryn snorted. “Idiot prince,” she muttered.

“No, really, why? You could have left me in the tower; you could have left me in the river. Why go to the trouble?”

She grinned. “Figure you’re my responsibility now. Besides, I like you. You’re not all that bad. Probably useless in a fight, mind, but not that bad.”

Alek cleared his throat. “I’ve never had anyone like me before,” he said, a bit stiffly.

Deryn clapped him on the shoulder. “Get used to it.”  
***  
So of course, he had to go and save her life, because that was just what this situation needed. Not only was Alek handsome and sort of entertaining (she’d admitted she liked him, what was the matter with her?) but now she actually owed him one.

It happened like this:

They were riding along the edge of a cliff (admittedly not one of her better decisions, but she was tired and they’d had nothing for dinner the night before so she felt she could be excused for this), Deryn sitting in front and Alek behind her, hands fisted in the back of her shirt. The path was rather rocky and they were both tired, so neither of them were paying too much attention to any obstacles in their way. So it was a complete surprise when the horse tripped on a rock, jostling Deryn almost over the edge of the cliff.

But Alek still had a grip on her shirt, luckily, and hooked his elbows under her arms, hauling her back upright. Deryn gasped for air as she looked down the cliff. She surely wouldn’t have survived a fall like that. She turned back to look at Alek, who looked just as wide eyed as she felt. “Thanks,” she said.

“Not a problem,” he replied.

So that had happened, and she was thinking about it much more than she ought to in any case. It was just a friendly thing, right? Anyone would have done the same thing. Anyone would have hauled her back from the brink of death like it was no big deal.

All right, maybe she was being a wee bit dramatic about the whole thing. He probably didn’t even like her as a person anyway. She was just a way for him to get back to civilization. Right?

Feeling relieved and not at all distracted by the sudden ache in her chest (it was probably just a bruise, she’d check on that later) Deryn returned her attention to the path ahead. Wouldn’t do to have another mishap, would it?

Wouldn’t do at all.  
***  
“So,” Deryn said, stirring the pot literally and metaphorically, “we’ve been traveling together for nearly a week and I still don’t know a thing about you besides you’re not a real prince and you like dragons.”

Alek raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“I feel like we should do something about that.” Blisters, but this was a horrible idea. Who’d come up with it? Oh, right. Deryn had. She shrugged. “Go on; tell me a little about yourself. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Alek mirrored her gesture. “You first.”

Deryn stretched, catlike. “What’s there to tell? Grew up in Glasgow with my da and my brother, Jaspert. He’s been made Spymaster, don’t tell anyone.”

“How’d you become a knight?” Alek asked. He seemed genuinely interested in her life story, for some odd reason.

“My da always took me to see the tourneys when I was a lass, and I guess I always wanted to do it. He died, and I suppose it was a natural next step for me to actually go through with it.” Deryn looked up from the ground. “So I go to Jaspert and tell him I want to be a knight, and he laughs.” She grinned. “But me, I’m a stubborn bumrag, so I keep bothering him until he agrees to talk to Dr. Barlow-that’s the woman who runs the knights’ school-and then she says no. So I bother her until she lets me in, and then,” she laughed, “after that it was pretty easy. A lot of drills and learning to fight proper. Not much.”

Alek laughed and shook his head. “So you essentially irritated two of the most important people in the kingdom into letting you be a knight.”

Deryn shrugged. “Basically, yeah. That’s my one talent; irritating people until they let me do fun things.” She stirred the stew again. “What about you?”

Alek smiled tightly and shook his head. Anyone else would have left it at that. But then, Deryn Sharp wasn’t anyone else.

“Oh, come on,” she said, resting her hands on her knees. “Fake prince out in the middle of the woods with a dragon? Got to be a pretty good story behind that, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Alek snapped, hands clenching.

She jerked back as if she’d been slapped. After a moment’s pause, Deryn stood, scratching the back of her neck. “Right,” she said, then paused a moment longer. Nothing happened. “I’ll go get some more firewood, then,” she said, and walked away.

Things were rather tense after that. When she returned to the camp, neither of them spoke a word to each other. They ate in silence and went to sleep straight away, and didn’t talk for most of the next day either. Which was sort of awkward, since Alek was literally hanging off her like a barking koala all day, which was uncomfortable enough when they’d been on good terms. When they weren’t, it was nigh unbearable.

In fact, the first time they spoke that day was when they were making camp. Deryn was preparing food for their dinner when she turned to Alek. 

“Go get some dry grass for kindling, will you?” she asked.

“Fine,” Alek said.

Deryn was just about to go to sleep later that night when Alek approached her suddenly. He’d been silent all through their meal, and had disappeared after it for near an hour afterwards. Awkwardly, he handed her something. Deryn stared at it. It was a stick.

“It’s a walking stick,” he explained. “For when we take riding the horse in turns. I made it,” Alek added.

She looked at it more closely. He’d drilled a hole near the top and run a leather thong through it as a sort of handle, and he’d stripped it of bark as well. “Thanks,” Deryn said, and quirked an eyebrow. “Is this an apology?”

“Sort of,” Alek said, twisting his hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. That was rude, and I was taught better. You deserve better than that.” Deryn stared at him, her heart doing an awkward sort of tap dance inside her chest. “I just-please don’t ask about my past. People get hurt when they get close to me.”

Deryn nodded, her mouth dry. “Because of the whole not a prince thing?” He nodded as well. “You’d think that’d keep a person out of harm’s way, not actually being a prince.”

“People think I’m a threat to the throne,” Alek explained, “because I’m not a real prince but Father doesn’t have any other heirs and so I’ve had enemies from the day I was born.” He shrugged. “So I’ve just not been close to anyone.”

“That’s no way to live,” Deryn said softly.

“Maybe,” he replied. “But it’s a good way not to die.”

“Those really aren’t the same thing.”

“I know.”

And what on earth was there to say to that?  
***  
They had to stop in a small town near Glasgow the next day in order to stock up on supplies, much to Deryn’s chagrin. In her own opinion, the sooner she got away from Alek and his puppy eyes and his whole I-have-no-friends-pity-me thing, the easier it would be for them both.

Of course, she hadn’t counted on his complete inability to act like a normal person. They got into the town and straight away he started prancing about, asking questions like he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Of course, he was, but that was really no excuse.

Deryn walked over to where he was near-interrogating a vendor of fruit, and hauled him away by the elbow. 

“What?” Alek said, looking for all the world as if he wasn’t doing an excellent job of giving himself away.

“Could you maybe be just a tad less obvious?” she hissed. “This is a small town, and what do you think they’ll do if they find out who you are?” He blinked confusedly at her. “Rob you, that’s what. So kindly shut up and let me do the talking.”

She turned to the fruit vendor and shot him a dazzling smile. “Sorry about my cousin,” she said, doing her best to fall in with the accent of the region. “He’s just down from the city and a bit mad, too. But he’s a good lad and does no harm.”

The vendor nodded warily.

“A bit mad?” Alek hissed.

“What did you want me to say? Oh, he’s a fake prince down from Austria-Hungary and hasn’t been in a real village before?” Deryn whispered. Alek elbowed her in the side.

“Ow,” she muttered.

As they walked down the street, Deryn noticed a couple of men in chain mail standing outside an inn, staring at Alek. She nudged him in the side and jerked her chin in their direction. “Do you know them?” she asked.

Alek glanced over at the two men briefly. “I’ve never seen them before in my life. Why?”

Deryn stopped in the middle of the street and thought. Alek was a fake prince who’d had enemies since the day he was born. He was considered a threat to the throne. And now strange men, probably knights, were staring openly at him in the streets.

Oh, blisters.

“I think we should leave now,” she whispered. “We’ve got enough supplies to last, let’s go.” 

“Why?” The two men started taking measured steps towards them.

Deryn turned around, taking Alek with her, and started walking back through town at a brisk pace. “What’s going on?” he protested.

“Nothing, shut up,” she replied. Deryn risked a glance behind them, and the two men were speeding up to catch up with them. Barking spiders, one of them had a sword. Why had she left her sword with the horse? There were times Deryn really questioned her own judgment.

But they were almost out of town, it was going to be fine, except that they were right behind her and Alek and they’d never have time to get on the horse before the two men were right on top of them. Deryn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Run!” she shouted, and she and Alek started sprinting out of town.

There was one advantage to their size, though it would normally put them at a disadvantage in a real fight. The men were wearing chain mail, which was really barking heavy, so she and Alek could most likely outrun them. Most likely being the operative words.

Deryn boosted Alek into the saddle, then swung up after him, and they took off at a gallop, leaving the two men in the dust. “Take a look back and see what they’re doing,” Deryn shouted.

Alek turned in the saddle. “They’re getting on horses and following us.”

Deryn swore under her breath. Why was this her life? “Is there something you’d like to tell me about your past? Something that might explain why people are chasing us?”

“I told you, I’m an illegitimate heir,” Alek shouted.

“Yeah, but is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of!”

“Well, start thinking, you ninny,” Deryn replied shortly, and returned her attention to losing their pursuers. They were faster than her, since they only had one man to a horse and Deryn was carrying two at one go. But she had one advantage over them. Deryn knew the woods surrounding Glasgow like the back of her hand. So it took a while, but she was eventually able to lose the men unloading the horse and sending it off on its own, while she and Alek hid in a thicket full of thorns. 

Although now they were on foot, which wasn’t exactly ideal. But at this point, she’d take what she could get.  
***  
“So,” Deryn started, heaving her pack higher up on her shoulders. They’d had to consolidate a lot of their supplies, given that they no longer had a horse to carry them. “You’re sure you don’t know who those men were?”

Alek frowned. “I thought about it, and I recognize the coat of arms that was on their chain mail. It was definitely German, but I couldn’t tell you who exactly it belonged to.”

German. Well, that was somewhere to start, in any case. “Know any Germans who don’t like you?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know any Germans personally, so I couldn’t tell you.”

“Aren’t you just a bundle of useful information, then?”

Alek rolled his eyes and fell into step with her. At least it was a nice day out, Deryn thought. It was getting to be late summer, and the air was cool but not chilly. The leaves would be turning soon, and she’d promised Jaspert she’d be back by the end of summer. Of course, now that she’d taken up with Alek, that might change.

“I never really asked, but now is a good time as any,” Alek started. “Where are you taking me?”

Deryn looked at him. “Why, you scared I’m kidnapping you? If that’s what I wanted, you’d have known before know.” Alek gave her a dry look. “Oh, fine. We’re heading back to Glasgow; see if my brother can help figure this nonsense out.”

“Can he be trusted?” Alek asked.

She laughed. “Jaspert? He’s Spymaster. If there’s anything he knows how to do, it’s keep a secret. And he’s much smarter about politics and who rules what than I am.”

“You’re smart,” he protested.

“Me? Nah. I’m just a simple bash and whacker; I take my orders and follow them, that’s all. I’m good in a scrap, but Jaspert and Dr. Barlow are the real masterminds.”

“They sound like people my tutor, Volger, would like.” Alek paused and considered. “Well. As much as Volger likes anyone, that is. He taught me everything I know. He’d know why these Germans are chasing us.”

“See, I’ve been doing some thinking about that,” Deryn said. “Your father’s the king, yeah?” Alek nodded. “So the succession thing isn’t even a problem until he can’t rule anymore.”

“Where are you going with this?” Alek asked warily.

“The thing is, you’re not a problem until the succession comes into question. So why are people chasing you now? If someone offed you right now, it’d probably throw everything into war, and then the line of succession would be even more convoluted with heirs dying all over the place. So whoever’s doing this isn’t worried about starting a war, which means that whoever would start a war over you is out of the picture.” Deryn paused. “Who opposes you for the throne, and who would start a war if you died?”

Alek didn’t answer for a moment; he appeared to be trying to process what Deryn had just said. “Well,” he said slowly, “Father would avenge me if I died, and my granduncle is next in line. But he would be after me if I was legitimate.”

She threw her hands up. “Well, there you go. That’s who’s chasing you.”

“But why involve the Germans?”

Deryn tilted her head, thinking. “What proof do we have that they’re even Germans? You recognized the crest, but they could very well be working for your granduncle and use those as a disguise. Throws another layer of confusion in, and would make your death look like an act of war.”

“I thought whoever was doing this didn’t want war!” Alek threw up his hands. “This is all terribly complicated.”

“It’s supposed to be, to create confusion. And your granduncle doesn’t want civil war, so he can get the throne easy. Has he got an issue with Germany?”

“He’s been pushing for war with them for ages, according to Volger. I don’t know why.”

She snapped and pointed at him. “Congratulations, Alek. You’re officially being used as a pawn to start a war with Germany. Only problem is…” Deryn trailed off. The only problem was why would his granduncle go to the trouble to do this now, when his father was still alive? That would ruin the whole thing for-oh. 

Oh.

“The only problem is?” Alek prompted.

Deryn thought fast. “Only problem is that we’re moving too slow. I promised my brother I’d be home by the end of the month.”

“But that’s a week away,” he protested.

She walked faster. “Nothing wrong with being early, your princeliness. Or didn’t they teach you that?”  
***  
Alek’s father was dead.

She found out when they stopped in the next village to get Alek a decent pair of boots. He waited on the outskirts of town to avoid being seen, and Deryn ventured in alone. She got the boots easy enough, guessing at the size, and stopped at the local market to get a news leaflet. And there it was, blazoned across the front, the news that the king of Austria-Hungary had died a week previously, due to poison in the night. Deryn clutched the leaflet so tightly the edges crumpled.

Barking spiders, how was she going to tell Alek?

Deryn set the leaflet down, smoothing the edges, and started back towards the edge of town. She had to tell him, didn’t she? It was what any good friend would do, wasn’t it? 

She pasted a smile on her face as she reached the stump where Alek sat, tossing the boots at him. He caught them easily, and started tugging them onto his feet. Alek looked up at her. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Everything’s fine.”  
***  
They were almost caught that night. Deryn had made a small fire to boil the dried beef that was all that was left of their supplies, and without warning, a horn blast sounded just outside their camp. Deryn unsheathed her sword, shoving Alek into a nearby bush, and prepared to fight.

Two riders burst out of the trees and skidded to a halt not three feet from her. Deryn forced herself not to flinch. Both men drew their swords and pointed them at her.

“Drop it,” one of them warned, tapping the hilt of her sword with the tip of his.

Deryn did as he said, but said nothing, maintaining eye contact the entire time. The other man’s sword point snaked to her throat, resting at her collarbone. “And what are you doing out here all alone, boy?” he asked.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes (although really, this was the second time in a week this had happened, it was getting kind of ridiculous. Although this was probably what she got for her short hair and slim figure.) and held up her hands in the universal please-don’t-kill-me gesture. “Going to see my auntie,” she said, pitching her voice lower than usual.

“Seen anyone else out here?” the first man asked. “A boy, about your age, red haired? He would have been traveling alone as well.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Money in it for you if you have.”

“Then I wish I had, sir,” she practically had to spit out the last word. “But I haven’t seen anyone.”

“Where’d you get the sword?”

“My da’s a blacksmith. Wanted me to deliver it to my auntie. I wouldn’t have used it on you, you just startled me.”

The second man smiled. “No harm done, boy. Carry on.” With that, the two men rode away. Deryn stayed frozen until they were out of sight, then picked up her sword and dragged Alek out of the bush.

“Why did you go to Lilit?” she demanded. “I deserve to know, I almost died keeping your barking secret.”

“What?” he said, looking shocked.

“Don’t you ‘what’ me, Alek, those men would have killed me as soon as looked at me, and then you’d be in a pickle indeed. I’ve saved your hide at least twice now, I think that means I get the tragic back story and all that it entails.” Deryn picked up her sword and re sheathed it. “I’ve proven myself more than trustworthy, if you hadn’t noticed.”

He held up his hands. “Deryn. Calm down.”

“Excuse you, I will not calm down!” Deryn threw her pack to the ground. “And now the meat’s gone and boiled.” She sighed and picked it out of the boiling water with her bare hands, wincing whenever her fingers hit the water. “Why did you go to Lilit? And don’t give me the “I volunteered” thing because I don’t believe that. Sorry.”

“Fine,” Alek said. “But you might as well sit down.” Deryn leveled him with a look, but sat down, crossing her legs. “My father knows that there is civil unrest in Austria-Hungary. He knows that there might soon be a war, and he didn’t want me in Vienna when that happened. Partly because if he were to-“ he paused, “be killed, I could potentially escape that and rule once things had settled down. So he sent me away to stay with Lilit. She and Father are friends.”

Deryn’s heart constricted at the mention of Alek’s father. “Listen, Alek, about your father-" she started, but he cut her off.

“He’s an honorable man, all right? He just wants what’s best for the people.”

“Of course,” Deryn demurred. “We should get some sleep. It’ll be a long day tomorrow. We’ll most likely make it to Glasgow by late afternoon.”

Alek smiled. “Thank you for understanding, Deryn. You’re a good friend.” Deryn forced a smile onto her face, trying not to show how much his words had affected her. A good friend, indeed.  
***  
As it turned out, they made Glasgow by early afternoon, sneaking through the gates with a large crowd in order to avoid the two horsemen Deryn had met earlier. In any case, it would be barking difficult for the two to follow them in without being pretty conspicuous.

Deryn led him through the streets, ignoring her heart pounding in her chest, and pounded on the door of her house. Jaspert opened it within seconds, looking pale and drawn. “Jaspert? What’s the matter?” she asked. 

“Deryn! Thank god, I was worried sick. The horse came back without you, and I didn’t know what to think, and I was thinking of sending out a search party.” Jaspert crushed her in a hug.

She gasped for breath. “Jaspert! Air!”

He let go, just as suddenly. “Sorry. Oh,” Jaspert said, his voice suddenly very cool. “You’ve picked up a stray.”

Deryn winced. “It’s not what you think, I promise.”

“Really? Because I was just thinking how your young man looks remarkably like the prince of Austria-Hungary, who’s been missing and presumed dead for two days.”

“Okay, in that case, it’s exactly what you think. Look, I found him in a tower, and I couldn’t just leave him there, could I?”

“Hold on,” Alek interrupted, raising a finger and addressing Jaspert. “How do you know who I am?”

Jaspert winked and clicked his tongue. “I’m the Spymaster of Scotland, lad. It’s my job to know these things. Come in, both of you,” he said, and led them into the main room. “Sorry about your loss, by the way.”

Deryn could have killed him.

Alek paused. “What loss?” 

Oh, hell.

Jaspert froze. “Oh, hell. You didn’t know. And now I feel like a great bumrag. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but I’m afraid your father has passed on.”

He inhaled. “How?” No, no, don’t tell him, Deryn thought, but of course her idiot brother went on ahead and did it anyway.

“Poison.” Jaspert looked back and forth between Alek and Deryn, and nodded. “I’ll give you a moment,” he said, and went into the other room.

Alek turned to her. There were tears in his eyes, she noted with horror. He laughed bitterly. “You must be proud. You were quite right. About everything, it seems. My father is dead, and my granduncle wants me dead.”

“I didn’t want to be,” she said, panicked. “Please, Alek, you have to believe me, I didn’t want to be right about any of this. I didn’t want it.”

He squared his shoulders and looked her right in the eyes. “You knew,” Alek said, voice trembling. It wasn’t a question. “You knew, and you didn’t say a word to me.” He shook his head, disbelieving. “Why?”

Deryn was shaking. “I tried, I really did. But there was never a good time for it, and I-" She stopped. She couldn’t go any farther, couldn’t tell him that she only wanted to protect him; she didn’t want to see him hurt.

Alek nodded. “It’s quite all right,” he said, a bitter smile twisting his features. “I understand completely.” He bowed low. “Give your brother my best. I won’t trouble him any further.” 

“No, please!” she started, but Alek walked out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Deryn to stare at the door.

Jaspert entered, tilting his head quizzically. “Deryn? What’s the matter?” She threw her arms around him, buried her head in his shoulder, and cried for the first time in years.  
***  
Jaspert Sharp was a man of many faces. He was a good older brother; he was a prankster and a tease; he was considered one of the most dangerous men in the kingdom. He was also angry. How dare this Prince Aleksander of Hohenburg make his little sister cry? When Jaspert found him (and he would find him, he wasn’t the Spymaster for nothing) there would be words.

Stalking through his city, Deryn a pace behind and a feral grin on his face, Jaspert had never felt more alive.

It was getting close to nightfall and they still hadn’t found the prince when Deryn suggested they try the plaza. It was one of the most central spots in Glasgow, certainly, but it was a bit obvious. But Jaspert shrugged and acquiesced, happy to see Deryn taking charge. Left on her own, she could be unhappy for days, but give her something to do and she’d snap right out of it.

The siblings split up once they reached the plaza, which was still bustling regardless of the lateness of the hour. Jaspert took the western half and Deryn took the eastern half, and they agreed to meet in the center in half an hour if they found nothing.

Jaspert found the prince eyeing an apple off Patrick Newkirk’s cart within ten minutes, and watched with undisguised glee as the boy contemplated stealing the thing. Just as he was about to make up his mind, Jaspert let out an “Oi!” that startled him nearly out of his boots. Several other vendors looked up, and Jaspert was suddenly all too aware of the scene he was making. 

He marched up to Aleksander and seized his ear, twisting it expertly so that he was looking down and not at any of the other businessmen. The boy struggled, trying to pry Jaspert’s hand off his ear, but the other man held on with a grim determination.

”Robbie,” Jaspert said, just loud enough for the other men to hear. “If I catch you skiving off your duties one more time, I’ll take the rod to you. Understood?”

Aleksander caught on and nodded, and Jaspert dragged him off towards the center of the plaza (by the arm this time, he might be angry but he wasn’t that cruel). Jaspert folded his arms and stared Aleksander down. 

“Do you have any idea the trouble you’ve caused?” he said in a perfectly modulated tone that, nonetheless, conveyed the force of his anger quite well. “You make me worry about my sister, you make a right mess of my day, and then you make my sister cry. No one gets to make my sister cry.” Jaspert leaned in close. “You do it again; I’ll break your legs. Or maybe I’ll pull all your toenails out one by one,” he continued, in perfectly pleasant tone, as if they were discussing the weather. “That’ll really make it fun for the boys. You really oughtn’t to underestimate me; I’m a very creative man.”

“But she lied to me,” Alek protested.

“I really don’t care,” Jaspert replied. “You sort that out with her. All I care about is that you upset her, and that is unforgivable to me.”

“That’s not fair!” he cried. “You’re not exactly an unbiased judge.”

Jaspert laughed aloud. “Not fair? Welcome to Scotland,” he said, then punched Alek, knocking him backwards. “The scolding was for Deryn,” Jaspert said, “but the punch was for me.” He cracked his knuckles and grinned. “Go apologize, and I’ll consider helping you out.”  
***  
Someone cleared their throat behind her, and Deryn whirled around to face the person. It was Alek. She froze. “It has come to my attention that I’ve upset you. I apologize. Although,” he continued stiffly, “you really should have told me. Why didn’t you?” Alek said carefully.

She relaxed a little. “I suppose I didn’t want to see you get hurt,” Deryn said, the words feeling strange on her lips. “Because I…like you.” More than you know, she added silently. “I should have said something sooner. I’m sorry.”

Alek nodded, but his eyes were still dark with grief and Deryn’s heart ached. “Are we all right, then?” he said, holding out a hand.

Deryn took it, and pulled him into a hug. Alek stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into it. She let go after a moment, then held him at arm’s length and inspected him. Deryn noticed the beginnings of a bruise on his left cheek. “Who’s punched you, then?” she said, trying to keep her voice light.

“Your brother,” Alek replied sourly, and Deryn laughed aloud. “Threatened to pull out my toenails if I didn’t apologize.”

“Ah, that’s Jaspert for you,” she said. “Although I’m barking glad you did. It wasn’t pleasant,” here Deryn hesitated, not quite sure how to phrase her words in a way that wouldn’t completely broadcast her relief to the entire world, “being at war with you. It was actually rather awful.”

Alek nodded. “I suppose I have to agree with you.” She punched his shoulder playfully.

“Are you admitting your affection?” She mock gasped. “Do you like me?”

He groaned. “Now you’re just being ridiculous. Of course I like you. I suppose I wouldn’t have apologized if I didn’t.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Deryn said, playing innocent. “Jaspert can be quite terrifying, don’t you think?” Alek muttered under his breath, something about breaking legs and punches and something not in English that didn’t sound complimentary. “You know, he’ll probably punch you again if you insult him to his face.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Alek replied sourly. “He seems like the sort of person who would derive great pleasure from doing just that.”

She smiled. “Well, he’s a good older brother, and I owe him a lot. Never would have gotten this far without him.” Deryn offered Alek her arm and tilted her head. “We should probably head back before he calls up the cavalry.”

“Quite.” And so the two of them walked back towards the center of the plaza, where Jaspert was waiting.

Her brother stood as they approached and fairly glared at Alek. “Well?” he said.

Deryn laughed aloud.  
***  
“No one can find out who he is,” Jaspert said over a dinner of chicken and potatoes. “As soon as that’s out, he’s practically dead because everyone in a two mile radius’ll know where he is.”

“But then, if you leave him here, it makes him that much easier to get to,” Dr. Barlow replied, adjusting the brim of her bowler hat. Jaspert had sent Deryn to fetch her that evening, because, according to Jaspert, they were going to need as much help as they could get. 

Alek raised a hand. “Could we perhaps stop talking about me like I’m not even in the room?”

The others, including Deryn, turned to look at him, as if just now realizing that he was in fact sitting at the same table as them. Dr. Barlow raised one eyebrow. “Certainly. Apologies.”

Deryn added, “Although, if he does go to the castle, people will start to ask questions about who he is. I think we’ll be fine. You know my training,” here she grinned, “and I’m sure you’re familiar with Jaspert’s qualifications. Why not leave him here? It’s a bit less conspicuous.”

“She does have a point,” Jaspert added. “We’re both well trained enough to handle ourselves, and Deryn’s fairly incorruptible. Can’t vouch for myself, but I figure you know me well enough to gauge my incorruptibility on your own.” He gave a winning smile.

Dr. Barlow considered it briefly. “Very well. It’s reasonable, although one of you will have to look after Prince Aleksander at all times.”

“I hardly think that’s necessary,” Alek interjected. “I’m not a child.” She held out a hand in a hushing gesture.

Jaspert quirked an eyebrow and raised a finger. “And what, pray tell, am I to do with him? I have things to do and I’m certainly not leaving him alone.”

“Still right here,” Alek reminded everyone. He’d leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“Sorry,” Jaspert said as Dr. Barlow tapped her fingers on the table. She pushed her plate away from her (It was barely touched, Deryn noted, and took a moment to be offended.) and glanced at Deryn.

She groaned internally. She had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling indeed.

“Deryn,” Dr. Barlow began. “You don’t have a squire, do you?”

Blisters.  
***  
Alek scowled and scrubbed at the breastplate with just a wee bit more force than was strictly necessary. 

“Oi,” Deryn said, brushing her horse’s mane, “Be careful with that, would you? I just got it.”

“By rights, you should be my squire, not the other way around,” he muttered, smearing more polish on to the rag. “It’s undignified.”

“Yeah, but who’s the knight and who’s not?” she countered easily. “Besides, what do you need a barking squire for? You haven’t got any armor, you don’t have a horse, and I don’t think you’ll be in any tourneys anytime soon.”

Alek sighed. “I suppose you have a point.”

Deryn laughed aloud. “I don’t suppose I could get that in writing? Might need to record this for future generations, you telling me I’m right.”

He tossed the rag onto the low wooden bench and stood, setting the breastplate aside delicately. “I don’t understand why this is even necessary.”

She turned to face him. “Well, for one, you’re definitely not staying at the house by yourself.” 

Alek shoved a hand through his hair exasperatedly. “Why on earth not? It would be the most convenient arrangement.”

She silenced him with a look. “What if someone breaks in while we’re gone? And before you ask, neither Jaspert nor I would just stop working. You’d be too conspicuous with Dr. Barlow, and Jaspert really doesn’t like you, so that leaves me. Besides,” Deryn said, grinning, “I’m the best with a sword. And you know perfectly well why you’re here, you just want to complain.”

“But why a squire? It’s ridiculous.”

Deryn shrugged. “I don’t know, I’d say you look the part well enough.” And it was true, Alek looked nothing like a prince, with his dirty clothes, rumpled hair, and grease smeared all over his face.

“What?” Alek said, catching her staring.

She shrugged again. “Oh, it’s nothing. You’ve just got a little something there,” Deryn said, tapping her left cheek.

Alek frowned and scrubbed at it with the back of his hand, only making it worse. “There?”

“Not quite.”

He tried again, raising an eyebrow.

Deryn smiled. “Here, let me,” she said, fishing a rag out of her trousers and stepping forward. She took his face in one hand and gently wiped the grease off. She took the rag to see Alek grinning fondly at her.

She froze. After a moment, she turned back to her horse, blushing furiously. Deryn was here to keep Alek from getting killed, she reminded herself, not make herself look like a fool by having a stupid schoolgirl crush on him.

“So,” she squeaked out, “how’s armor coming along?”

Deryn could almost hear Alek’s frown. “It’s coming along,” he said slowly. “Are you quite all right, Deryn?”

She took a deep breath in. “I’m fine,” she said.

She lied.

“I see,” Alek replied. 

He lied, too.

At that moment, a short, brown haired boy poked his head into the room. He cleared his throat, and Alek’s head shot up. The other boy coughed, and Deryn looked up.

“Newkirk, what are you doing here?” she asked, looking surprised to see him.

Newkirk shrugged. “You know I just go where they tell me, Sharp. Even if I have to go to the stables. Don’t like horses,” he said darkly.

Just then, he seemed to notice Alek standing there. “Who’s he?” he asked, unimpressed. “Your new squire?”

“Actually, yes,” Deryn replied, putting a hand on her hip. “Barking clever, you are.”

“Lucky guess,” he replied. “Anyway, some one told me Dr. Barlow wanted to see you in her office right away, and to bring somebody named Alek with you” His tone made it all too clear he was quoting the source directly. Newkirk wrinkled his nose. “He could have been more polite. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off. That bumrag Fitzroy won’t stop putting on airs, and I’m to muck out stables for a week if he gets angry.” Newkirk gave a mock salute and disappeared as suddenly as he’d arrived. 

“Well, then,” Alek said. “What an interesting fellow.”

Deryn laughed. “That’s Newkirk for you. But he’s a good lad, and trustworthy. Come on then, we don’t want to keep the boffin waiting.” She strode off through the stables, not waiting for Alek to keep up.

That, she thought, and if she had to spend any more time alone with Alek, she might just go mad.

He broke into a jog to catch up to her. “What’s this all about, then?” he asked.

Deryn shook her head. “No idea, but I don’t fancy making Dr. Barlow angry this late in the day. It’s bad for my heart.”

He winced in sympathy. “She’s that bad?”

“The good doctor likes people to be punctual,” Deryn said, still walking, “and she doesn’t like excuses.”

“Ah,” Alek replied. “Excellent.” But at this point, all conversation stopped. They had reached Dr. Barlow’s office, which was conveniently just across the way from the stables. Deryn rapped on the door, and there was no response.

Well. That was barking odd, wasn’t it? Newkirk had said that Dr. Barlow was waiting for them, so why wasn’t she answering her door? Deryn glanced around the streets. It was getting dark, and she was pretty sure they didn’t want to be out alone for too much longer. Add to that, she was actually a bit worried about what Dr. Barlow wanted. It could be nothing, but Deryn didn’t want anything to happen that could be prevented.

So. Her mind was made up, and standing around dithering about it wouldn’t do anyone any good. 

“What’s going on?” Alek asked.

Deryn stared at the door. “I’m not sure. But I’m going to find out.” She tested the doorknob. Unlocked.

Alarm bells went off in her head. Deryn drew her sword. “Wait here,” she said slowly, not turning back to look at Alek, and opened the door. She slipped through silently, eyes adjusting quickly to the darkened room. Deryn’s heart was pounding in her chest, her fingers shook, and her legs felt like jelly. She stepped farther into the room, and the door began to creak shut behind her.

Deryn frowned. What was that about? But before she had a chance to turn, there was a hand over her mouth and an arm wrapped around her throat and she can’t breathe, she can’t breathe, and she’s fighting but not getting anywhere and she needed to warn Alek but she can’t even breathe-  
***  
Alek twiddled his thumbs, staring at the slightly opened door. Deryn had been in there a while, and the windows were still dark, but she hadn’t come back out. 

Not that he was worried. Deryn was tough; she could certainly handle herself in a fight.

Couldn’t she?

Alek banished the thought from his head. She was a trained knight, what was he thinking? She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

All the same, it had been rather a long time. Perhaps he ought to check, just see if she was all right. Alek bit his lip, thinking. She had told him to stay put, but really, why was she taking this long?

Alek sighed. Very well, he had made up his mind, had he not? He pushed the door open, stepped into the building, and shut and locked the door behind him quietly.

Someone cleared their throat calmly.

Alek looked up and froze. Standing in the center of the room was a hulking bear of a man, holding a wickedly sharp, curved sword. 

“Oh, hell,” Alek said.  
***  
There was a pulsing pain behind Deryn’s left eye that was really rather uncomfortable. She went to touch the skin, but oh, wait, her hands were tied. Wasn’t that wonderful? Just excellent. She opened her eyes slowly, unsure what kind of a scene would await her.

Deryn was still in Dr. Barlow’s office, so that was a good thing. At least she knew where she was. Her wrists were tied to the arms of a high backed wooden chair, and a tight rope encircled her throat, binding her even tighter to the chair. She looked around and, oh, excellent, there was Alek in the corner. On the other side of the room stood a giant of a man, who appeared to be trimming his nails with a large bowie knife.

This just kept getting better and better.

“What are we all waiting around for?” she said, breaking the heavy silence. Alek’s head snapped up, as did the other man’s albeit more slowly. “Not me, I hope. I’m rather fond of being punctual.”

The man stood and cracked his knuckles. “It has come to the attention of certain parties,” he began in a thick accent, “that you have information regarding the location of Aleksander von Hohenburg, the illegitimate son of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. My employer would like that information.”

Deryn laughed aloud. “That’s a bit cliché, isn’t it? Like one of those dime novels. What’s next? Maybe you’d better lay out your entire plan for me, so I can foil it just in time to save the princess. Oh wait,” she drawled, “did that already.”

Stony faced, the man took three steps across the room and back handed her.

“You hit like my four year old cousin.” Another hit, this time with a closed fist. Deryn spat blood. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek. “I’m going to call you Dieter. You look like a Dieter.” Deryn glanced over at Alek, who was watching in mute horror. “Evening,” she said, then returned her attention to Dieter. “So why bother bringing my squire into this?”

The big man glared. Did he look sullen? “It wasn’t in the plan,” he muttered. “He just walked in. Besides, he might know something useful. So,” he said, pushing the chair so it balanced on two legs, “where is he?”

Deryn grinned, her teeth outlined in red. “You’re going to have to be a lot more convincing than that, big man,” she promised.  
***  
It was getting late when there was a knock on Jaspert’s door. He stood slowly, stretched, and opened it slowly. Newkirk stood on the other side, looking uncharacteristically worried, shifting his feet. “Have you seen Deryn?” he blurted out, before Jaspert even had time to wish him good evening.

Jaspert eyed him. “No. What’s the matter?”

Newkirk waved his hands. “Oh, it’s nothing! I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just that I sent her to see Dr. Barlow and she hasn’t been back, and I was just checking up, you know?”

“Dr. Barlow is in London,” Jaspert said slowly. Realization dawned on him, and he set off down the street at a dead sprint, leaving the door wide open behind him.

“Where are you going?” Newkirk shouted.

“No time to explain,” he replied. “Stay at the house until I get back.”  
***  
Deryn’s entire face was throbbing with pain, but she did her best not to let it show. She’d gotten a blackened eye, her skull ached, and she was fairly sure she’d bruised a rib. But she hadn’t given anything away, not even so much as glancing at Alek.

Dieter cracked his knuckles and pulled a small knife from a concealed sheath. Deryn tensed, and her face paled beneath the bruising. He approached her, face set and determined. She braced herself. But Dieter just cut the ropes tying her hands and throat and shoved her from the chair. She landed roughly on the floor, knees tucked into her chest. Deryn pulled herself slowly into a sitting position, just in time to see Dieter drag Alek from the corner and hold the knife to his throat.

“Tell me where Aleksander is or the boy gets it,” Dieter threatened.

Deryn’s eyes flickered between him and Alek, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. Dieter’s face was cold and hard. He looked like a man who meant business, a man who was on the edge. Meanwhile, Alek’s eyes were filled with terror as he glanced down at the sharp knife’s edge. She froze, mind racing at the implications. Whether she spoke or didn’t, she was in huge trouble. It was a no win situation at its finest.

“Don’t do it,” Alek warned. His eyes were dark.

She glanced over to him and grinned. “Sod off, I do what I want.” Deryn beckoned Dieter over with her chin. “I can’t shout it all the way over there to you, what kind of operation do you think this is?”

Dieter approached her slowly until he was standing a pace away, his arms folded expectantly.

“Deryn,” Alek tried again, but she paid him no attention. 

“A little closer, if you would,” Deryn said. “I’m tied to the chair, man. What am I going to do to you?” Grudgingly, Dieter leaned forward so their faces were nearly aligned. 

At that moment, several things happened. The first was that Deryn flung herself forward, tipping the chair and headbutting Dieter with the force of all her body weight behind it. He was thrown backwards, stumbling. The second was that Jaspert came flying through the window in a spray of glass. He landed in a crouch, then tackled Dieter, knocking him out with a vicious blow. The third thing was that Alek leapt forward and intercepted Deryn. The two fell to the floor, Alek’s arms cradling her head.

Jaspert was the first to move, rising to his feet and dusting off his clothes. He spat at Dieter’s feet. He reached for a dagger at his belt, then crouched next to Alek and Deryn, placing a hand on Alek’s shoulder. Slowly, the two unfurled, and Jaspert began cutting her loose from the chair. 

“Hi, Jaspert,” she said, grinning weakly.

Jaspert held out a finger. “No. What have I told you about going into deserted buildings at night without bringing someone with you?”

“I had Alek!” she protested.

“Someone useful,” Jaspert amended, then glanced at Alek. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s quite all right.”

That said, he returned his attention to Deryn. “What have I told you?” She winced, and he rapped her skull sharply. “Don’t do it! I had to find out where you were from Newkirk, of all people. What you did was dangerous, it was foolhardy, and it could have ended very badly.” Jaspert paused. “That said, you did very well and I’m proud.”

Deryn got to a sitting position. “What?”

He sighed. “Don’t make me say it again. Now let’s get you both out of here before someone shows up. I certainly don’t want to be here when Dr. Barlow discovers what we’ve done to her office.”  
***  
A week later, Alek and Deryn sat on the roof of the stables, legs dangling from the edge. Jaspert and Dr. Barlow had set their respective people to rooting out any other German agents in the city, but for the time being, they were safe. 

“So,” Deryn began, handing him a roll. “What are you going to do now?”

Alek took it, their fingers brushing, and considered. “You know, I’m not really sure. I can’t go back home, that’s for certain.”

“You know,” she said, as casually as she could manage, “Dr. Barlow mentioned something the other day, about needing an assistant. I suppose a prince would be good at that sort of thing. Diplomacy, and all that. You could,” she swallowed hard, “stay here.”

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble,” he replied.

Deryn cut in. “You wouldn’t be trouble! I-that is-you should stay here,” she finished lamely.

Alek laughed aloud. “Glad to know I’ve got such a ringing endorsement.” He nudged her shoulder with his own, and as they sat there in the fading light, Deryn felt it was the start of something new.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Sarah for holding my hand (not literally) through the ending of this entire thing. I probably wouldn't have finished if she hadn't listened to me complain about it. 
> 
> Visit me on tumblr at pretentiousandfrench.tumblr.com!


End file.
